


How Does The Ocean Rock The Boat

by friendlypotato



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019), True History of the Kelly Gang (2019)
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, but it's also soft, light degradation, porn with plot but the plot is porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlypotato/pseuds/friendlypotato
Summary: Will is quite vanilla, and Tom likes it, he really does. But memories ofNed Kellythe past plague him, memories of rough hands and teasing words and honestly simply the best sex he's ever had. He knows he'll never get to experience that again. Will would never want that, and that's fine. Unless...?
Relationships: Tom Blake/Ned Kelly, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	How Does The Ocean Rock The Boat

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for Alice who once, months back, expressed an interest in fic about feral Ned and/or Will with feral Ned traits, and I did my very best to deliver. Alice, I love you, this fic is for you, I hope you like it <3
> 
> Thanks as always to the dark 2nd devons, I would be nowhere without all your wonderfully horny ideas and your love and support of mine.
> 
> Title is from [Tom Waits' Alice](https://open.spotify.com/track/6flhPfJHRcQ1jiXojPen9J?si=rpddwrb4Rha-68TBhk2TQg) (please don't analyse this choice we all know it's because I'm in love with Alice we don't need to talk about it)

He knows what to expect from Will. He’s known it ever since he first laid eyes on the man; he would be absolutely perfect, the sweetest, gentlest, most selfless lover imaginable. Tom prays that it will be enough for him.

The thing is, the way it is to be with Will is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. 

They’d met in a pub. When he first spotted him across the room, he’d thought the man bore a resemblance to Ned so striking he might have thought they were brothers. So striking even, that when he made his way over to him and asked if the seat next to him was free, he expected to be met with the unreadable expression in his guarded, darkened eyes, the cocky smirk and the challenging tilt of his head that Tom had grown to know so well.

What he got instead was a shy yet hopeful smile, so kind and open that Tom felt an immediate desire to wrap his arms around him tight and keep him safe forever, and also he wanted to just kiss him silly. He ended up doing neither- he just sat next to him, had a beer with him, and chatted his ears off- small talk had always been his strong suit. Will hadn’t minded.

It hadn’t felt right to take this gentle, clever man home with him that night, even though that had been the plan when he came to the pub in the first place. Instead, he’d given him his number and had let Will take him out for dinner the next day.

It hadn’t gone anything like that with Ned. After the evening Tom met him, also in a pub, and no he does not have a drinking problem thank you very much, he genuinely can’t think of a time he saw Ned outside of Ned’s foyer, staircase, and then bedroom. And the shower, on several memorable occasions. One exception for the sofa in the living room. Not that he’d been complaining, at the time. It was good, what he had with Ned. Immature, sure, but it was good, and fun, and what he’d needed at the time.

With Will, it wasn’t like that. Will had asked if he could kiss him goodnight on the way home from their second date. With Will, he’d fallen in love.

And, Will is a reliable bloke. Kind, quiet, affectionate if encouraged, loyal and mature, open and honest. So yes, Tom knows exactly what to expect when two months into their relationship, he gets Will into bed with him.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, and it can only be described as making love. Will covers every inch of his body in featherlight kisses, checks in with Tom to see if he’s still okay, if he’s enjoying this, whenever he removes an article of clothing or touches hin in a new place. He strokes the softest parts of his thighs with a reverent touch as he whispers whole poems of praise into the flushed skin of Tom’s neck.

He opens Tom up carefully, taking what feels like an eternity to finger him until he takes three fingers with ease. He fingers him until Tom is clutching at his broad shoulders, panting as he whispers a broken “please”. 

Then Will is kissing him again, putting on a condom, coating his cock in lube and sliding into him maddeningly slowly. He thrusts into him gently but deeply, murmuring words of encouragement, wraps a hand around Tom’s aching cock and strokes it firmly in time with his thrusts until Tom comes with a loud moan, and Will is coming too, deep inside of him, whispers of love spilling from both of their lips.

In other words, it’s good. It’s really good. Perfect even.

Tom falls asleep in Will’s arms, content, blissed out. But that night, he dreams of Ned.

Ned in his dreams has changed a bit, his hair slightly shorter at the back, his face a bit rounder, but it’s unmistakably Ned. The possessive glint in his eyes is an indicator, the graceful stalk towards Tom, taut muscles flexing, is too, but the real giveaway is the things he’s saying to him. Things he can’t imagine Will even _thinking_. And Tom would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on more than anything ever had, just like it always used to.

“Are you gonna try and be a good boy for me, baby? I know that’s difficult for you, you need it so, so bad, but you can do it, can’t you baby?” 

Tom feels hot, like his skin is too tight to contain all of him. “Yes sir,” falls from him, as if it’s a reflex.

Ned grins at him wolfishly. “Alright baby, so be quiet for me, yeah? No words unless I ask you a question. You can make those whorish little noises, but that’s it, alright?”

Tom nods eagerly. 

“What’s that baby?” 

He groans. “Yes sir.”

“Good boy.”

A moan stutters from him and he bucks up his hips, trying to find friction against something, anything. Ned tuts at him, a sound that sends shivers down his spine. “My, my, what a greedy little slut you are. Better keep still for me darlin’, or I’ll make you.”

Tom swallows thickly, arousal flaming in his gut. Ned pushes two fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, and he sucks at them with abandon, overwhelmed by the salty-sweet taste of skin and the feel of them on his tongue, though the tips of his fingers are slightly less rough than he remembers Ned’s to be. He moans around them, looking up at the man above him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Look at you, all wanton,” Ned murmurs. “Imagine if the lads at the pub saw you like this, saw what a pretty little whore you are for me. I bet you wouldn’t even mind, would you?” Tom gasps, cheeks burning, and writhes, attempting to stay still only halfheartedly. 

Ned shushes him. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yes- oh fuck, yes sir, I wouldn’t care,” Tom gasps, hips rolling up. He finds friction against Ned’s thigh and moans in pleasure. Then, Ned is gripping his hip hard, pinning him down against the bed.

“Oh you little menace, can’t even be good for me for more than five minutes, huh? Dirty little boy, rubbing off on me like a bitch in heat.” 

Shame and arousal flood him with equal intensity and a bead of pre-come dribbles from his cock as tears well up in his eyes. “S- sorry sir.” 

Ned hums. “Alright, on your belly, hands above your head.” 

Tom scrambles to comply, flopping onto his stomach without a trace of grace or dignity. Ned grasps his wrists in one hand, and the fact that his long fingers can encircle both of his wrists makes Tom’s cock throb almost painfully. 

He is effectively pinned to the bed, the man on top of him is so strong that even with little effort from him, Tom can tell that struggle will be futile. He struggles a little anyway, just to feel Ned’s hand tighten around his wrists in response. He moans at the sensation, knowing it’ll leave bruises on his pale skin, a thought that does nothing at all to quell his arousal.

“Gonna have to teach you how to behave, is that it? Slutty boy, so used to getting what he wants whenever he wants it that he can’t even control his impulses, can you, you little brat?”

Tom presses his erection into the sheets underneath him in an attempt to relieve some pressure which ends up being rather counterproductive. He whines softly and starts to babble. “Please sir, please, I want- I want to be good for you, I want-” he can hear tears in his own voice. 

Ned hums in approval. “Do you want me to fuck you, is that it? Gonna have to ask more  
nicely than that, sweetheart,” Ned drawls, his tone mocking. 

Tom shudders, the shame he feels only fueling the nearly frenzied state of arousal he’s in. “Sir, please, please fuck me, please, I’ll be good.”

“Mm, that’s right, baby. You’d do anything to have my cock inside you, you insatiable little slut, begging without a care as long as you get what you want.”

Ned leans away for a moment without letting go of Tom’s wrists. Then he lets go, only for his hand to be replaced by a short, thick rope. Tom whimpers.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Ned purrs. “You like not having any control, spread out for me to do with as I please. You look so lovely like this, all ready for me, desperate for me to fill your tight little hole until you’re dripping.”

All Tom can do in response is spreading his legs wider, as wide as they go. Behind him, he can hear the obscene sound of Ned spitting onto his fingers, and saliva floods his mouth in anticipation. 

Then, a spit-slick finger is entering him, almost immediately followed by a second. 

Tom is trembling, the combination of the muted burn of the stretch and the divine pleasure of the thick knuckles of Ned’s fingers brushing that bundle of nerves deep inside of him working him quickly towards overstimulation. He buries his face in the sheets below him in an attempt to muffle the broken moans he can’t stop uttering.

All of a sudden, a hand brushes the side of his neck. The touch is unexpected, and for a split second Tom is disoriented, but then the hand slides forward, settling around his throat, and he gasps.

Ned applies some pressure, and Tom instinctively lifts his head, a thread of saliva dripping from his mouth to the sheets that he can’t possibly wipe away. 

“There you go, don’t hide those sounds from me, baby, let me hear how badly you want me.” Ned’s voice is calm, low, collected, while Tom can’t even form words right now, can only moan louder, his voice growing hoarse. 

“That’s right, you want me so, so bad, don’t you? Here you are, tied up, my hand around your throat, nowhere to go and instead of wanting to run, all you want is more, for me to fill that pretty little hole of yours, my slutty boy.”

Tom is pinned in three places now; the ropes binding his wrists, the fingers in his hole and the hand stroking his neck, not even truly restricting his airflow, just exerting the slightest pressure against his pulse. 

These points ground him, make everything feel so real, that every sensation is overwhelming. On some level Tom is aware he’s rolling his hips to fuck himself back onto Ned’s hand as he fingers him, tugging at the rope, moaning in a broken voice, but he mainly feels calm, quiet, free. He feels good, so good.

Then Ned starts talking again. “I could just leave you here like this, tied up, dripping wet for me, make you wait. I could go sit on the chair over there, watch you squirm and squirm for hours before I fuck you.” 

Hot and cold wash over Tom simultaneously. The thought of Ned just sitting there doing nothing has his toes curling, but he’s also aching to be touched, aching to feel the man deep inside of him. “No, sir, please-”

“Maybe I wouldn’t even fuck you. Maybe I’d go jerk off in the bathroom, and forget all about the desperate little slut in my bed.” Tom gasps, his ears burning, shame making his blood turn hot, boiling, as another dribble of pre-come leaks from his cock.

“But you’re all nice and ready for me now, aren’t you? All pretty and loosened up, would be a waste if I didn’t make use of it. Looks like I’m gonna give my spoiled little brat exactly what he wants again.” 

Then, without further hesitance, Ned is filling him, fucking him hard and deep as he presses fingertip-shaped bruises into his hips. Soon, Ned’s breathing turns ragged too, and Tom feels powerful, knowing he’s the cause, knowing he’s been good. Every thrust brings him closer and closer to the edge.

"Say my name baby, say you're mine," Ned pants.

Tom whines. He's so close, he's so fucking close. "Ned, oh fuck, Ned, I'm yours, only yours."

"Again," Ned groans.

"Yours sir, oh fuck, all yours, Will-"

Consciousness hits Tom like a ton of bricks. He’s back in the arms of the man he loves, and he is also quite painfully aroused.

He lays there for three whole seconds to process the harsh transition into the world of the waking. Then he jumps out of bed and sprints to the bathroom as fast as he can without stirring Will.

Once there, he jerks himself off with quick, efficient strokes, the phantom of Ned’s fingers still pressing into his neck. It takes less than half a minute before he comes, hard, biting into his hand to muffle the shout he can’t manage to suppress.

When he comes down from his high, he slumps against the bathroom wall, letting his head fall against the tiles heavily. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to collect himself, but his brain is being overwhelmingly loud. He feels nearly sick with guilt, betrayed by his own subconscious, and he honestly just feels like having a good cry on the bathroom floor at midnight. 

Is he a bad person now? Is this what they call emotional cheating? He cannot believe he’s doing this to Will of people, the sweetest, most kind and understanding man he’s ever known, the man he loves and might want to spend the rest of his life with. 

And the thing is, he doesn’t actually miss Ned. Ned was fun, Ned was a good friend, but that part of his life is over now and Tom is more than fine with that. But, Ned knew what he wanted, knew how to treat Tom just the way he likes better than anyone ever had, better than Tom himself. He hadn’t even had to ask (except for Ned _had_ made him ask. Repeatedly. Okay, he needs to stop thinking about that before he gets hard again.)

He’d known Ned wasn’t a person he could ever settle down with. Ned didn’t want that and Tom hadn’t wanted that from Ned. But he also knew he wouldn’t find someone who could do that for him as well as Ned had done it ever again. He didn’t know how to ask for it from anyone else. He didn’t expect anyone else to want to. And he’d accepted that.

Now his subconscious (and his cock) just need to catch up. He gives himself a mental shake, a stern look in the mirror and a decision to behave like a proper adult. He’d get over this soon. He climbs back into bed beside Will and falls into a restless sleep.

* * *

And that is how it continues. Will is so sweet and gentle, so generous in showing Tom he loves him in everything he does. During sex, but also after, before, when they’re out on a date and when they’re just watching telly. And Tom loves it. Tom loves being in love with a kind man who loves him in return. He loves building a life, building a future with someone who makes him excited for those. He loves Will, simple as that. 

But a small voice in the back of his head wants, and can’t stop thinking about wanting other things too. Rough hands, clear demands, words that make him blush or cry or both at once and the opportunity to please, to be good. He shoves the thoughts as far down as they’ll go. Sometimes it works better than other times.

One time they’re making out, cuddled up on the couch when Will cards his fingers through the curls at the back of Tom’s head, and his fingers snag on a tangle. Immediately, Tom is transported back to hands pulling hard at his hair, yanking until his head falls back as he lets out a guttural moan and oh god- he stiffens slightly, forcing back a whimper. 

Will mutters an apology and takes his hand away from his hair altogether. They continue as if nothing happened. Tom pointedly ignores that he’s now rock hard in his trousers, and prays that Will doesn’t notice.

* * *

The next time it happens, he really can’t be blamed. It’s when he runs into Ned fucking Kelly himself. 

Will and he were just shopping for some groceries. Will had a whole list to work through, and Tom was going through the important and difficult process of selecting a cereal, so Will had left him on his own in the cereal aisle for a couple of minutes. 

That’s how he ends up with several cartons of cereal balanced in his arms, lost in deep, concentrated thought when he hears a familiar and decidedly Australian voice behind him.

“Tom? Is that you?”

He spins around, and there he is, almost exactly as he remembers him, 6 feet of lean muscle with a mullet that really shouldn’t look that fucking hot, intense eyes staring straight into his soul. 

“Ned!” Ned’s grin grows at least twenty per cent cockier at the way his voice breaks. 

“I haven’t seen you since- since…” He trails off, blushing furiously. Technically, the last time they’d seen each other was just before Ned left for Australia, a perfectly amicable meet-up, just them having a pint and a chat in the pub. But it’s not the time that pops into his head, and clearly not the one in Ned’s, either. 

He clears his throat. “Back in ye olde England then?”

“Yeah,” Ned drawls. “For the time being.”

He starts recounting some anecdote, maybe, or telling him something about his siblings? Tom can’t quite follow the thread of the conversation. Or at all, really. The only thing going through his mind right now is the second-to-last time he saw Ned: when he’d rode him on the couch in Ned’s living room. It’s a rather distracting memory, and he hopes, no, he _prays_ Ned doesn’t recognise the slightly glazed-over look that is surely in his eyes right now.

 _”Yeah, fuck, there you go baby, fuck yourself on my cock. This is what you were made for, isn’t it? This is what you were born to do. You’re glorious like this,”_ whispers memory-Ned into his memory-ear.

“Tom?” Current Ned shifts back into focus.

“Sorry, what?” Tom blushes hard.

Ned narrows his eyes, trying to judge if he should dig deeper, but ultimately decides now is not the moment. “I asked how you’ve been doing over here.”

“Oh, right, yeah, thanks! Um, well, I’ve been doing well!” His thoughts are racing, and he’s unable to decide on what emotion he’s feeling. “Uhh, I have a boyfriend, Will. A proper lovely bloke, I’m here with him.”

“Oh, that’s great!” It’s slightly too loud, a hint of hysteria in his voice, and Tom winces; but it’s genuine, which only brings Tom closer to tears. Ned always had been a good friend. “I’m happy for you,” he adds, softer.

Tom is torn; he wants to be kinder to Ned, offer him friendship, but doesn’t know how to do that without sending a conflicting message. He settles for a smile that he hopes doesn’t look too tearful, but his emotions always have shown on his face for everyone to see.

“Why don’t we go for a beer sometimes, catch up,” Ned offers. “Bring your man, I’d like to meet this ‘lovely bloke’.” He says the last two words in a lightly mocking tone, making gentle fun of Tom, to set them firmly back into ‘just two mates having a chat’-territory.

Tom takes the offering for what it is, and grins widely at him, scoffing. “Sure, yeah, I’d love tha- oh hey, there’s Will now!” And sure enough, there is Will, making his way towards them. 

“Will, this is Ned, Ned, Will,” Tom gestures between them, desperate for this specific interaction to be over. Will shakes his hand with a polite ‘how do you do,’ and Tom tells Ned he’s glad to have run into him, and then they’re on their way again.

The encounter sticks with him for long after, and he can’t quite pinpoint if it has made him feel better or worse.

* * *

The third time it happens it’s something Will says, something perfectly innocent. They’re not even having sex. It’s not even about Tom. It’s about a fucking piece of furniture. 

They’re in an IKEA, shopping for their new apartment- Tom is giddy with excitement. They’ve been dating for seven months now, and Tom’s contract for his apartment ended, and it felt like the natural progression of things. So here they are, picking bookshelves and lampshades and a couch.

Will gestures towards a compact grey sofa called _askeby_. “What do you think of this one?”

“Yeah, looks good,” replies Tom absentmindedly.

Will bends over to look at the measurements. “Mmm,” he mutters. “I’m just worried it won’t fit.”

Tom freezes. A furious blush takes control of his face as memories flood him.

_“Are you ready for me, baby?” Ned whispers into his ear. “Are you sure you can take me?” Tom arches his back in response._

_“You’re so small, baby, are you sure my cock can fit inside your tight little hole? I don’t wanna hurt you, and I just don’t see how my big cock is ever gonna be able to get into your tiny body.” The unintelligible noise Tom makes is enough to spur Ned on._

_“Oh, but you wanna try, don’t you, baby? You wanna be good for me, want so badly to try to fit all of my big cock inside you, don’t you?”_

_“Y-yeah, yes, yes, please sir,” Tom stutters._

_“Mmm,” Ned drawls. “I’m just worried it won’t fit.” He stays still for a bit, pretending to consider stopping. “I’ll just go very, very slow, so I won’t hurt my little boy with my big fucking cock.” And well, fuck-_

“Tom?”

Tom blinks. Bright lights replace the warm bedroom. He shakes his head quickly, trying to shake off the memory. Will is looking at him confusedly, a hint of worry in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Tom stutters, doing his best to sound casual, failing miserably when he promptly stumbles over an _ektorp_. Will shoots him a strange look but lets it slide.

* * *

It was gonna go wrong one of these days. Today, apparently, was that day. It’s a shame really because Tom had been considering today quite a feat so far. Will, always the gentleman, always conscious to behave appropriately in public, and always eager to treat Tom the way he feels he deserves, meaning champagne, candles and soft sheets rather than a dirty bathroom in a pub, wouldn’t usually let himself be roped into this. 

But he’d been in the mood today. Tom had noticed as soon as Will had come home from work. There had been a certain tension to him, a hint of something heated in his eyes, a slightly sloppy kiss hello. Tom had smirked at him, and he’d immediately gone bright red. 

Tom would have been amenable to having him right then and there, but they’d promised a friend they’d have a drink with her and her friends at the pub in celebration of her completing her master’s thesis, and Will had insisted they go. So here they are, in the pub, drinking their pints quietly as Lauri recounts the story of how she’d managed to hand in the thesis she’d been working on over the past two years only three minutes before the deadline.

Will won’t even look him in the eyes anymore, a furious blush on his cheekbones as he grips his glass tightly. Tom would find it amusing if he wasn’t starting to get into quite a similar state. The final drop is when he knocks back the last of his beer and he can _feel_ Will’s eyes burning into his skin as the man is entranced by the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

He gets up from the table as gracefully as he can, starts walking towards the bathroom, then turns back to throw an arched eyebrow at Will. He’s pleased to find Will gazing at him intensely, and even more pleased when Will gets up so quickly he knocks into the table. The thrill of power and the excitement for what’s to come lighting a fire inside of him. 

So that is how he ends up on his knees in front of Will in the rather cramped pub bathroom, with his dick in his mouth, feeling like the luckiest git alive. He’s absorbed in the physicality of it, the salty taste of skin, the warmth, the weight of it, the easy slide between his spit-slick lips.

Will is petting his hair gently with one hand, and covering his own mouth with the other, and Tom can tell he’s putting effort into keeping still. Seeing the effect he has on him only gets him that much more aroused, and he moans, taking Will even deeper. Will mutters a muffled ‘fuck’, and his hips shoot forward, his cock knocking roughly against the back of his throat; Tom has to fight to suppress his gag reflex.

Will immediately starts to sputter out apologies, but Tom is looking up at him with glazed eyes and intently swallows him down deeper without losing eye contact. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes are nearly all black. He lets out a small noise and relaxes again, tightening his fingers in Tom’s hair the slightest bit. It feels so fucking good, and Will’s control starts to slip a little, rolling his hips just the slightest bit, careful not to hurt him. It reminds him of a different time.

_Rough hands pull his hair hard enough to make it impossible for Tom to move his head._

_“Oh, you’re desperate for me to fuck that warm little mouth of yours, aren’t you, baby?” Tom doesn’t respond beyond letting his jaw fall slack, looking up at Ned through his lashes as a bit of saliva drips from his lip._

_“Christ, look at you, drooling all over the fucking carpet like a sloppy whore. Is that what you are, baby? Are you a sloppy little slut for me?”_

_“Yes sir,” Tom whispers. “A good little whore, just for you, please, please-”_

_Ned places a finger on his bottom lip and shushes him. His finger comes away wet with spit. Without hesitating, Ned wraps his tongue around his fingertip. “So wet and ready for me, greedy little boy. But this isn’t about what you want, is it?”_

_Tom tries to shake his head, but Ned’s grip on his hair hasn’t let up even a fragment of an inch. Ned is looking at him expectantly. “N-no sir, it’s not.”_

_“That’s right. So you’re gonna sit still and let me have my way, let me fuck your throat, let me use your wet, warm hole exactly as I please.”_

_Then Ned is guiding his cock into Tom’s mouth. Contrary to his words, he lets Tom adjust for a second before starting to thrust into his mouth, but his pace speeds up quickly, and soon he’s fucking roughly into his throat, pushing Tom’s head further down onto his cock with every thrust._

_Tom focuses on breathing through his nose as all he can do is take it. The burn at the back of his throat and the sting of the yanking at his hair make his eyes water and his cock leak pre-come. By now a thread of saliva is actually dripping from his mouth onto the carpet and he feels filthy, debauched._

_“That’s good, so wet, taking me so well. You look so pretty like this, like this is where you belong, on your knees for me, like you were made for me.” He disentangles one hand from his hair to lightly press his palm against Tom’s throat, continuing to fuck his mouth in a steady pace._

_“You like this, don’t you baby? You enjoy me using your filthy little mouth with no consideration for you, you enjoy gagging on my cock in your throat,” Ned murmurs, tightening his grip on his throat just a little bit to emphasise._

_Then, he pulls Tom all the way off, and Tom gasps for breath, throat burning, cock throbbing. “Please sir, please…”_

He is breathing deeply, trying to collect himself, eager to take him back into his mouth. Will tugs at his curls gently and a whine escapes from Tom’s lips. “Please… Sir-” 

Will stills his movements. Tom’s brain takes a few seconds to catch up before he- shit. Shit, shit, fucking shit. He scrambles as far away from Will as he can within the tiny room, which is only a few inches, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, feeling tears burning just behind his eyes.

“Tom?” Will sounds startled, worried. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He exhales shakily, and oh, yeah, there are the tears now. “I’m… I’m so sorry,” he sniffles. “So, so sorry.”

Will tucks himself back into his trousers and crouches on the floor next to Tom. “What’s going on darling? Talk to me love, did I hurt you?” 

He shakes his head firmly, tries to speak, but all that comes out is another sob. 

“Is it about what you just said?” He says it gently, so careful, and Tom loves him, loves him so much that a fresh wave of tears wells up and rolls down his cheeks freely. “The sir thing?”

He nods slowly, hiding his face in his hands. “It’s not…” Will hesitates. “It’s not a problem, for me, that is. It, well it surprised me, but I didn’t mind, love.”

It’s all he can do to cry even harder. Will brushes some tears off his cheek with the utmost care. “Let’s go home, and we can talk about it properly, alright?”

Tom sniffles and nods. Will places a hand on his cheek and he looks up at him. “Hey. We’ll talk about it, it’s gonna be okay. I love you, yeah?”

He breathes in deeply, starting to feel slightly calmer, an effect Will always seems to have on him. “Yeah.”

Will smiles almost shyly at him. “Alright. You go on outside, I’ll tell Lauri we’re heading home.”

* * *

They walk home in silence. Tom is exhausted, but as he starts to calm down, he begins to realise that it’s really not the end of the world. He tries to visualise how the conversation will go, something that always helps him make awkward situations seem less overwhelming. 

So, he’ll tell Will about Ned, about the things he enjoyed with him. And while he’s terrified of rejection, disgust, deep down he knows Will isn’t that judgemental and won’t hold it against him. Or he wouldn’t break up with him for it, at least. So that’s good. Tom will tell him the memories come bubbling up sometimes, it’s no big deal, he doesn’t mind that he can’t have that now. And Will, kind, lovely, understanding Will, would tell him it’s alright. There, not the end of the world. 

But Will holds his hand the entire 10-minute walk home, and the feeling of him there, beside him, squeezing his hand every now and then as if to say _I’m not going anywhere_ , helps him relax more than anything. 

Finally, they reach the appartement. Tom sits down on the couch, fidgeting, unsure of how to start. Will sits down next to him on the other end of the sofa, giving him some space. He clears his throat. “So. The sir thing. That’s sort of a big deal to you then, isn’t it?”

Tom can’t manage to find his voice, so he just nods. 

“Is it, like, a kink?”

He sniffs. “Y-yeah, I guess,” he mutters.

Will hums. “Can you tell me a little more about it?”

Tom sighs. Where to start? Well, at the beginning, he supposes. He’ll tell it as a story. It’s always been easier for him that way.

“It, uh, well, it started when I met Ned. You remember Ned, right? We ran into him that one time, in the supermarket. Australian bloke? Anyway, we used to have a thing, sort of. We weren’t boyfriend and boyfriend or anything, I guess at the time we would’ve said we were friends having a little fun. But to say it was ‘just’ sex wouldn’t be quite right either. We got a thing going where he took control, just took care of me. He’d be a little mean, a little rough, make me tell him what I wanted, call him ‘sir’, that sort of thing. It wasn’t something I’d done before, but I trusted him; we had something special in that regard. It wasn’t love or anything, but it was something good. I felt different, freer when it was like that. 

“Anyway, that was fun for a couple of months, but it was never gonna be forever, you know? Ned wasn’t gonna settle down, and I wasn’t gonna settle down with him. Then at some point, he had to move back to Australia for a couple of months, and we stopped. And then I met the love of my life.” 

With that, he shyly looks over at Will, who smiles at him encouragingly. “Thank you for telling me about that, baby. And in the bar just now? Can you explain a little what happened there?”

Tom blushes. “Yeah, right, so uhh-” he clears his throat and tries again. “So I’m obviously completely fine with not doing anything like that ever again, but sometimes I have these fantasies, or well, memories I suppose? And I, well I guess I got a little caught up in that. I’m so, so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No baby, you didn’t, not at all. Were you… were you thinking of Ned, then?”

Tom winces a little at that. “I mean, yes and no? It… it’s not about him, you see, it was just that you made me feel so good and, and I guess some part of my brain associates that with certain experiences? It’s you who I want, you who I love, only you. But I get it if you’re mad at me. Or if you-” he chokes back the tears that are threatening to start falling again. ”If you need some time?”

Will scoots closer, brushes a thumb over his cheekbone. “No, my love, I’m not angry. I understand, it’s okay.”

Tom sighs in relief, and leans forward to meet Will’s lips. Will returns the kiss eagerly, cradling the back of his head with his free hand. Tom pours everything he feels into it, gratefulness, relief, and most of all love.

Will sits back again, hesitates for a second. “Would you… well, would you want to do that sort of thing with me?”

Tom’s eyes widen. What the fuck should he say to that? If he said yes, would Will feel obligated to try it? But saying no might hurt him, and furthermore it would be a blatant lie.

“Uhh,” he licks his lips. “Depends?” Quite diplomatic, if he may say so himself.

Will smiles. “I haven’t… well, I haven’t really done anything like that before. But I’d like to try it if you’d like. I, let’s just say I really, very much didn’t mind the sir thing.”

A disbelieving smirk pulls across Tom’s face and he feels giddy with love for him. “Is that right?”

Will blushes slightly, and Tom all but giggles with excitement. “Yeah,” Will mumbles. “And I very much like you, so I’d like to try.”

Well, he simply has to kiss him again after that. Maybe he doesn’t have to kiss him quite as passionately, or with as much tongue as he does, but he can hardly be blamed if Will is being so goddamn lovely. And besides, they’d been in the middle of something before all this. It takes a second for Will to catch up.

“Wait, now?”

Tom blushes gently. “Yes, now if you like.”

Will blushes too, then kisses him again, this time matching him in urgency, and frankly in indecency. “Alright then, I’d like that very much.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, safewords firmly in place, Tom does as Will instructs: he heads to their bedroom to wait for Will. He quickly strips down to his boxers and gets on the bed. His heart is beating wildly in anticipation. He doesn’t quite know what to expect as he hears Will come down the hallway at a measured pace. Seeing as this is a first for Will, he doesn’t expect too much, but honestly, at this point, he might come as soon as he’s called a good boy. 

His stomach flutters excitedly as Will steps into the room. He’s taken off his shoes, but beyond that, he’s still completely dressed, and Tom suddenly feels very, very naked. He can’t help but feel a little self-conscious, but it’s too late now to put on more clothes so he settles for looking stubbornly down at the floor, unable to meet Will’s eyes. 

“Aww, has my baby suddenly gone shy?” Blood rushes to Tom’s cheeks and his eyes fly to Will’s, wide. 

Will is staring at him, a challenge and a hint of a smirk in his eyes, but mostly hunger, hunger for him. “There you are,” he murmurs. “Now, it looks like we’ve got a bit of a problem here, don’t we?”

He licks his lips and takes a few more steps until he’s standing right beside Tom, next to the bed. “I haven’t been taking proper care of my baby, have I?” 

Tom looks bewildered. “No, no that’s not-” 

“No who, darling?” Will interjects, a teasing authority in his voice that’s unlike anything he has ever heard from him before. 

“No sir.” Tom’s face flushes deeply. 

“There’s a good boy. But it’s true. I mean, it surprised me too. Here I was thinking that I was giving my baby just what he wanted, just what he deserved, and fucking him quite regularly, I might add, but it wasn’t enough for you, was it, you insatiable little slut?” 

Tom had been about to protest again, but at those last words all coherent thought flees him at once, and he’s unable even to keep in the soft whine that welled up from him. 

“Daydreaming of more even with my cock in your mouth, you slutty, slutty boy. Seems like there’s only one thing to be done. I’m going to have to make you come so hard you forget everything but my name. Don’t you think, baby?” 

“Yes- yes sir.” He can hear a tremor in his voice, which is quite embarrassing, as Will hasn’t even touched him yet at all. 

“Alright baby, what’s your colour?” 

“Green, sir,” he breathes. 

Will smiles at him. “Alright, good boy, lay down for me then, love.” 

He scrambles to comply, flopping onto his back like a dead fish, and spreading his knees to make space for Will between his legs. There’s nothing graceful about it, but it does a fair job of communicating just how badly he wants the man’s cock inside of him. 

"Oh dear, you sure are eager for it, aren't you?" Will's tone is mocking, but his pupils, blown wide with lust, betray his appreciation of the display. Tom's cheeks heat up at the attention. 

Will moves onto the bed, settling between his legs. "So eager to have my cock fill your little hole. Well, you're going to have to be a little patient, baby. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?"

Tom feels so hot, he thinks he must be flushed red all over as his erection strains against his boxers almost painfully. "Yes sir," he breathes. "I'll be good."

“Good,” Will purrs. Then he bends down, careful not to touch him anywhere, and Tom already feels like he could cry with frustration. 

Will places a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Tom tries to chase his lips when he pulls away, but he moves down, kissing along his jawline and down his neck until just below his pulse point. There, he licks at the skin for a second, before biting down. 

A startled gasp is ripped from Tom, that breaks off into a breathy moan. It feels like all his nerve endings are on fire, everything around him disappearing until all that’s left in the world is Will’s hot mouth and sharp teeth on his throat. 

The sting of the bite sends waves of heat through him and knowing that the mark he leaves behind will stay furiously red for days to come sparks another surge of arousal. It leaves him behind gasping for air. He’s desperate for something, for more.

He rolls his hips up almost subconsciously, his brain still fully occupied by Will’s mouth, that now has found a new spot, and inch to the right of the first, to suck dark purple bruises into. There, he finds Will’s thigh, tight in his well-tailored trousers and oh- oh it feels divine. 

He rubs up against his thigh over and over again, clutching at his shoulders, digging his nails into the muscle there. Will continues to suck and bite at the sensitive skin of his throat until he’s lightheaded, moaning brokenly, rutting against his thigh with abandon and all of a sudden he’s close, he’s so- “Will, oh, oh fuck Will I’m close, I’m-”

And then Will is pulling away, far away, and Tom could howl with frustration, but all that comes out is a desolate little whine.

Will, meanwhile, is sat between his thighs, looking down with a frown that doesn’t quite obscure the giddy little smirk that has Tom instantly feeling quite disgustingly lovesick. He follows his gaze down to Will’s thigh and _oh_. A dark wet patch in the fabric of his trousers in the middle of his thigh, matching the one in Tom’s boxers, where Tom had been mindlessly chasing his pleasure, smearing pre-come everywhere. Embarrassment sits hot in his gut as he blushes deeply.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” Will whispers. “One moment you’re so desperate for it you’re rubbing off on me like a dirty little puppy, and the next you’re laying there blushing like innocence itself. You make it so difficult for me, beautiful, not to have you right here, right now. A big, big part of me would have liked to have had you hours ago up against the wall in the pub, for everyone to see, to know you are mine.”

Well at this rate, maybe Tom wouldn’t even need to be touched at all. And clearly, it shows because Will hums disapprovingly. “Now you wouldn’t come before I tell you to, would you?”

It takes a second for him to find his voice back, and when he does, it’s barely even a whisper. Never in his life has he been this wrecked, this fast. “No sir.”

“Good boy.” Will strokes a hand down his thigh, and Tom yelps, overly sensitive, as his legs start to tremble slightly. He fists his hands into the sheets below him in an attempt to find something to hold onto.

“Your colour darling?” 

“Green, sir, green, very much green, oh please, oh-” Will places a thumb on his bottom lip to quiet him, and Tom wildly flicks the tip of it with his tongue, eliciting a startled gasp. He takes the thumb into his mouth, nipping lightly at the fleshy pad, then wrapping his lips around it firm and sucking. 

“Oh baby, what am I to do with you? A little menace is what you are, all wide, innocent eyes and so, so beautifully sensitive. Almost enough to distract me from the fact that rather than being a good boy who deserves to be praised, you’re actually a spoiled, cocky little whore who expects to get exactly what he wants, even if he acts like a brat.” 

Tears are welling up in his eyes as some distant voice in his brain wonders how the fuck Will is so good at this. He needs Will so desperately, needs to feel him around him, atop him, inside of him, but all he can do is lay there, sucking at his finger, waiting for him to give.

“So you better start being good for me now, because I can’t go around giving you what you want if you’re not behaving now, can I? But you’re making it so hard to restrain myself, baby, so hard. So if you’re not good, I just won’t let you come.” He withdraws his thumb from Tom’s mouth, smearing spit over his bottom lip.

“I’d keep you here, tie you up maybe. Keep you here for hours, days even. And I’d fuck you quick, never hard enough for you to come. And I’m on the edge here, baby, I wouldn’t even need a minute to come inside you, fill you up, but you just wouldn’t quite be able to get there. And then I’d do it again, fucking my own come back into you. And again. And you’d lay there, filled up, dripping, thighs and sheets covered, until you learn how to fucking behave.”

Tears are streaming down Tom's face, his cock furiously red and throbbing as he bites his bottom lip in a feeble attempt to keep the sounds to a minimum. "Please- sir, sir please-"

"Oh, fuck," Will whispers, as he slides a hand between Tom's thighs, cupping the bulge of his cock in his damp boxers. "You… that appeals to you, doesn't it? You actually like the sound of that? Christ, you're going to be the death of me, baby. I don't think I can let you leave this bed ever again."

He starts to massage his cock through his boxers with a firm hand. Tom’s eyes fall close, the friction so delicious, but then Will swipes a thumb along his jaw and his eyes fly open again. 

Will is staring intently at the smattering of beginning bruises and bitemarks covering his throat, high above where his collar would fall. There’s a naked lust in his eyes that sends shivers down Tom’s spine. Will places a careful hand on his throat and presses his index and middle fingers into the abused skin. He’s gentle as always, exerting only the slightest pressure, and the mild, dull pain is exquisite. Tom moans, and Will looks up into his eyes as if seeing him for the first time again, wondrous and entranced. 

“Can’t say I mind,” he breathes. “I didn’t-” he breaks off with a whimper. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “I didn’t expect you to take to it quite like this.”

Will giggles softly, almost a bit deliriously. “Can’t say I did either. You- you bring it out in me I suppose.” And with that, he leans down and kisses him deeply, tenderly. He kisses him until he’s gasping for breath, moaning into his mouth, thrusting into the hand that’s still massaging his clothed cock. Then, he pulls away again, and this time Tom can’t keep back a sob. 

Will quirks an eyebrow. “My poor little baby. So desperate, so sensitive, you’ve almost come in your pants like a teenager twice now. I bet you’re fucking aching for it, aren’t you? Absolutely desperate for my cock. Well, I should reward you for being so good for me. But I don’t want to hurt you, baby, you’re so small and so sensitive. What am I to do?”

Tom gasps, tries to spread his legs even wider, hoping Will meant the question rhetorically, and would just pick up on the rather unsubtle hint. But Will doesn’t move a muscle.

“Sir, please-” he whimpers. Will looks at him expectantly. “Sir, please, I need- I can take it, please, I’ll be good, please, I just need you.”

Will hums, and reaches into the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. He settles back on top of Tom, and quickly strips him of his boxers. A voice in the back of his head registers that Will is still fully dressed, something that does nothing to alleviate his flustered state or his arousal.

Will is coating one of his fingers in lube, and anticipation burns hot in his gut. 

“Let’s see if you can be good for me then, shall we? Don’t touch yourself, don’t come before I say you can alright? And don’t hide those pretty little noises you keep making for me, yeah?” Tom nods, releasing a shaky breath. 

Will presses his slick index finger to his opening, sending a shudder through him, reverberating in a soft moan. “My sensitive, pretty baby. Fucking sinful you are, gonna make me feel so good.” And with that, he pushes the finger into his hole. 

Instantly, something relaxes in Tom, as his muscles clench and release, trying to take the finger deeper, but Will sticks to his own pace, teasingly slow. When his knuckle brushes his prostate, he has to grasp at the bedsheets to keep himself from touching himself, as another powerful surge of arousal and aching need racks his body. Will withdraws his finger, pulling a whine from Tom, punctuated by a moan when he slams it back into his hole.

“You’re so small, baby, so small and tight. And already whimpering and shivering like a virgin from just my finger. How are you ever going to be able to take my cock?”

It’s a game, of course it is. He took Will yesterday morning and many, many occasions before that. But fuck if it doesn’t get him hot. “I can.. I need... Please, sir, I’ll be good, I need you, please.”

Will starts up a pace, slowly fucking him with his finger, gently rubbing his prostate. “Is that right baby? You need me?” He pushes a second finger in, and soon after a third, working him open with efficient strokes.

The movements all seem to blur together into one single moment that stretches into eternity. Until one particularly well-aimed stroke, and suddenly he’s back, grounded in his body, feeling everything so very intensely. With two or three more strokes, he’s balancing on the edge again, so close to the crest of pleasure. 

“Sir- ahh, fuck- it feels so good, so fucking good.” He’s incapable of stopping himself from babbling once he’s started. “I’m gonna- oh god, I’m so close, I’m-” and then all of a sudden Will’s hand is back around his throat, and his eyes fly open, head immediately clearing up, but arousal only sharpening. 

“Don’t you fucking dare come,” Will growls, voice low and dangerous. Tom gasps for breath like the air has been punched out of him by sheer shock. 

Then Will pulls his fingers out of him at once and looks intently at how his lube-slick hole clenches on thin air, loose and gaping from being so carefully opened up. 

“Beautiful,” Will whispers. “All open and ready for me, my gorgeous boy. What’s your colour, baby?” 

“Green, sir,” Tom pants, barely audible.

“Good,” he murmurs as he grabs one of the pillows at the headboard. “C’mon, up.” He guides the pillow underneath Tom’s hips. 

Unable to help feeling quite exposed like this, Tom automatically tries to close his legs, but Will stops him, grabbing his thighs and squeezing lightly, pushing them as far apart as they go. Then, he bends down and sticks his tongue into his hole, massaging the muscle and pushing spit past the rim. 

Tom doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, unable to relax into it with the desperate need for more, harder, deeper. He settles for digging his feet deep into the mattress and uttering breathy moans that sound like pleas, until Will pulls away one last time, leaving his hole relaxed and dripping with spit. 

He hears the sound of a zipper unzipping, followed by the click of the cap of the lube and a wet, obscene sound that can only be Will coating his erection in it. He stays silent, trembling with the effort it takes to wait patiently. But he is rewarded soon, as Will places a heavy hand on his hip bone, and guides himself to his entrance. 

“Are you ready to take my cock, baby?” 

“Yes sir, I’m- please, yes.” 

Without further hesitation, he pushes his cock inside, going slow, still careful not to hurt him. The slight burn of the stretch, the feeling of slowly, finally being full of Will, Will inside him at last, and his hands tight on his hips; it all feels so good, so incredibly good that he’s almost close to tears again. 

It’s only when he’s bottomed out, and Will’s hips are pressed against the backs of his thighs, that it fully clicks that Will is still fully dressed, only having bothered to open his fly and push aside his pants. “Oh- oh fuck-” and then Will is pulling back out and pushing back in again, and again, and whatever words he’d been trying to form are lost in a stream of gasps and moans. 

“You feel so good, angel, so good. I’m not going to last very long, fuck, you’re such a good boy for me.” 

He picks up a slow pace, rubbing against his prostate with every stroke. It’s enough to quickly work Tom into something of a frenzy again. Soon, he’s back to begging, for more, harder, please, please- though he can’t be sure he’s actually saying anything out loud, as the rush of pleasure is louder in his head than even the most wanton of sounds he’s making. 

“There you go again,” murmurs Will, his voice now slightly hoarse, breathy. “Asking, no, begging for more, more, more, you greedy boy. And so sure you’ll get it.” 

Right. So it had been out loud. Tom lets out a small whine, blushing a crimson red. 

“Is that what you are? Are you my greedy, spoiled little slut?” And with that, he tightens his grip on Tom’s hips until it’s sure to leave bruises, and slams into him hard. 

Encouraged by the sound from Tom that can only be described as a wail, by his face going slack in pleasure, by his hands that fly up to his shoulders, scratching down the soft silk of his dress shirt, he does it again, over and over, fucking into him at a brutal pace. Tom has to place his hands against the headboard to keep from hitting his head against it. It doesn’t take long before he’s on the edge of overstimulation, and so close to orgasm once again. 

“Sir, fuck, I’m close, may I- may I please?” 

“Yes angel, come for me,” Will murmurs, never slowing his pace, and that’s all it takes for Tom to come, completely untouched. 

It seems to go on forever, as thick ribbons of come make a mess of Tom’s stomach and Will’s shirt. Will keeps thrusting into him, working him through it- Tom barely notices, flying so high he might as well be in a different realm. When he finally comes back to himself he’s exhausted, and sated, more sated than he has felt in a long time.

Will is still moving, chasing his own pleasure, and he winces slightly at the sting of oversensitivity, but it’s good, it feels good to have Will inside him, finding his pleasure there, buried in his body. Will, silent now except for soft gasps and groans, flushed with exertion, lets himself fall forward onto Tom’s chest, continuing to fuck him from that angle, quick and shallow. 

This new position sparks something hot in his gut, the pain of oversensitivity forgotten, and fantasies of a round two much sooner than he first envisioned pop into his brain at once. Will mouths at his collarbone, bites into it with sharp teeth. Then he’s coming inside of him, his movements slowly stuttering to a stop. 

He stays there, in Tom’s arms, his weight on top him comforting. Will mumbles something into his skin that he doesn’t quite catch. After a little while, Will lifts his head and looks up at Tom. 

"Did I hurt you?" 

"No my love, you made me feel so good," Tom smiles. Will relaxes a bit again. 

"Was I-" Then he hesitates. "Was it-" 

"Perfect, you were perfect," Tom says with a sigh of satisfaction. "Better than I would have ever dared dream of. Better than anything I've ever experienced." 

Will grins at him giddily and leans up to kiss him. And if that kiss escalates into an enthusiastic second round, that's nobody's business but their own. One thing is sure- Tom loves Will with everything he is, and Will loves him equally in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'll see myself to horny jail!!!
> 
> This wasn't beta-ed, sorry for any mistakes!


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